Queen of it All
by rowina.frost
Summary: Rowina, the famed Dragonborn, has defeated Alduin and now looks for a form of retirement, but by helping one man, killing one old woman for a young boy, and letting her guard down at the wrong time, her retiring career fell right in her lap. But what will happen when she finds herself in love with two different men? And in the end, who should she choose? (Please R and R!)
1. Queen of Hammers and Nails

**CHAPTER ONE:**

 **QUEEN OF HAMMERS AND NAILS**

She felt her breathing grow heavy with exhaustion. She felt the cool sweat drip from her nose and heard the lush grass twitch from the disturbance the salty drop caused. Forcing herself to look up at the display of bright lights flashing and twisting as her greatest kill writhed about in the air. She did it. She had slain the mighty dragon, Alduin, as prophecy predicted. She had saved Skyrim and other parts from his wicked reign, but to her it seemed too surreal.

Then the air went still. The light faded out from existence where Alduin was defeated. She glanced around finding the three, long dead, warriors who aided her, cheering. The two siblings bear-hugged each other while the older wizard fell to his knees and sent heart-felt praises to the sky above. It warmed her heart to see them so happy. They watched the creature that killed them, and many others, die at their feet. She would be elated as well if she were in their shoes.

Turning towards the bone bridge, she made her way to Tusn, who kept the bridge. With a slight laugh, he clapped her on the back, "Well, look at you! Killer of the wicked dragon, Alduin," He sighed, "Who would have thought that this day would actually come to pass?"

The imperial woman smiled, "I sure as hell didn't."

The two roared with laughter, but her face quickly clouded with concern, "But, did I kill him? I didn't absorb his soul."

"He may be dead, he may not be. He may come back at the End of the world to be our undoing. Who knows? We won't know right now, but the future will be what it's supposed to be. So rather then worry over things that haven't happened yet, focus on the present. You only get it for a short time before that thought was in the past and you inhale a piece of the future." He lectured to her.

Her eyes widened and she paused before letting her lips curl into a smile, "I guess you're right," she wrapped her arms around the god, who tensed with surprise, but relaxed and patted her back as if she were a child, "Thank you, Tusn."

They released from their embrace, Tusn grinned back, "No, thank _you,_ Dragonborn. We will always have a place for you in Sovngarde," His kind smile switched to a daring smirk, "But the next time I see you, I won't let you win so easily in a brawl."

She chuckled, "I'm looking forward to it, Tusn." There was a moment of silence before she spoke again, "Rowina. My name is Rowina."

A look of sudden surprise etched the man's face before it quickly went soft, "Rowina, the people of Sovngarde will sing your name for centuries to come," the remark caused Rowina's fair skinned cheeks to grow pink, "Rowina, the Dragon Queen, the Dragon Killer, the-"

"Okay, okay, okay! I get it!" She silenced him before he could continue listing titles.

Tusn looked at her hot pink face and was nearly in a fit of laughter, " I see, I see, I'll lay off," his face went soft again, "Are you ready to get back to the land of the living?"

She sighed and looked down at the ring she was wearing. As if it were singing her praises of encouragement she looked at the tall man in front of her and nodded.

The last thing she saw before her sight was blinded by a warm light was his smiling face mouthing his thanks again.

* * *

'He could have at least teleported me back to my home in Whiterun.' Rowina thought as she stomped on the muddy pathway, 'But no, take me about a day north of the damned town instead.'

She could almost swear she could hear the god of judgment laughing in her ear. The landing was all good and fine but just a horrid location, and to make it even better, it had just rained and the path was squishing under her feet.

She couldn't help but sigh, "Well, at least the rain already passed."

As if the gods, or Tusn, heard her, she heard a clap of thunder. Looking up, a rain droplet crashed onto her forehead followed by several others, 'Great.'

The petite sized woman continued her grueling walk through the cold rain for hours before the storm had finally passed. The sun began to shine as the gray clouds dissipated. The sun was warm but it only lasted another hour before the stars and moons began to push it behind the mountains. The air grew chilly again and the shaking woman decided to make camp and a fire before the cold got her first, she wasn't ready for Sovngarde yet.

After another half hour went by, she had put up her small, patchwork tent near a little fire she had quickly made. Armor was stripped off and replaced with two layers of warm clothing along with a thick bear hide blanket. She sat close to the fire as she tended to roast a hare she found for her supper.

"D-Damned Nords," she shuttered, "How the hell do they survive this cold?"

Being an Imperial, she stood little chance at getting used to Skyrim's year-round winter. Even though she moved here when she was younger, she had always hated the bitter cold.

The hare was nice and tinder by the time she pulled it off the fire. When she ate to her fill she unpinned her long, raven-colored hair, let it fall to her sides, and braided it. Her hair felt rather greasy and she missed her nice bathtub. She missed the soft cushion of her warm bed at home when she laid her achy body on the hard hay cot beneath her. The only little piece of comfort she had with her was the small, gold ring that resided on her slender finger. It gently illuminated a soft blue hue as she pulled her hand to her chest and she slowly lulled off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

"Poor, foolish, Cicero! Foolish, foolish, foolish! How is poor Cicero going to get mother home now?"

A man's loud and distressed voice crept into Rowina's ears as it pulled away her grasp of deep slumber. She fluttered her eyes open and sat up groggily. Hearing another shrill cry, she pounced up from her cot, 'Is some one hurt? Or being attacked?'

She quickly tried to put on her armor, but realized she had on two rather thick pairs of clothing from the cold night. Panicked now, she hurriedly stripped and donned on her dragon scale armor, grabbed her Dawnbreaker blade and dashed her way towards the noise only to find that the noise maker, was a jester. Her steps stopped, 'A jester?' she thought, 'In Skyrim?'

Rowina continued towards the man, but her walk a bit gentler. The man heard the woman approach behind him and looked over his shoulder. His worry-stricken face suddenly beamed with hope and he turned to face her.

"Is everything alri-?" Rowina began to speak but was quickly overlapped with a squeal of delight from the jester.

The jester grabbed her shoulders, in which surprised the petite woman, "Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes! I'm saved! Poor Cicero is saved!"

'Cicero' began to dance around her with joy. Rowina wasn't sure what to do, 'Did I just-? Is he a madman?' she thought as he continued to frolic and spin around her.

She had to calm him down; "Uh- um- Cicero is it?" she started while she herself had to keep her body on a swivel just to look at him, "Wh- What seems to be your problem?"

He stopped his dance and looked at her with amber, pitiful eyes, "Cicero's cart broke down and he needs to get his mother to her new home quick!" She looked over his shoulder to look at the cart to try to see if there was an older woman, but she saw nothing but a large crate sitting on the cart. She looked back at the man with a look of confusion. Cicero seemed to have sensed that, "Mother's old crypt was recently demolished and Cicero must hurry and take her to her new one," She then realized that the crate was probably his mother's coffin, "But Cicero is stuck! Stuck! This gods damned wagon wheel merely snapped off of the wagon! Cicero has no tools! He doesn't! The mean farmer, Loreius won't help dear Cicero! He has tools, but won't come down!"

'Refuses to help?' she thought, 'I've known the couple for the two years she had been in Skyrim and they are always so kind, but why not Cicero? Perhaps he is a bit eccentric for them.'

While she paused to sort her thoughts, she found the flamboyant jester kicking the wagon while tossing curses at it. Even though it shouldn't of, Rowina felt a laugh crawling up her throat, threatening to escape her mouth. It did.

Her attempt to not laugh made the escaped laugh even louder. Cicero stopped his rant against the wooden wagon and looked at the woman with concern, "Um? Is sweet lady alright? Did Cicero do something funny?"

Rowina couldn't help but laugh harder and fell to the ground with tears streaking down her face. She couldn't remember the last time she had laughed like this. Finally, her laughter died down. She wiped the tears from her face and opened her eyes, but when she did, she found Cicero's worried face inches away from her own with his red hair sweeping across her cheek. Letting out a yelp of surprise, she raised her head to get up. Except the two imperials clashed foreheads and howled in pain.

"Ah! Sorry! Sorry! Cicero is sorry!"

"No! I'm sorry!"

The two ended up sitting cross-legged next to each other, both rubbing their point of impact. Cicero was the first to seemingly recover, "Oh! Oh my! Cicero apologizes! He didn't mean to frighten the kind woman or hurt her! Oh... Cicero is so sorry." His voice went shrill with the last sentence.

She meekly chuckled, "No, no. The fault is my own."

While she continued to rub her head, she noticed a black glove bearing looped, gold embellishments reach out in front of her. Looking up, she found the gloved hand belonged to Cicero, 'When did he move?'

Rowina hesitated, but accepted the outstretched hand, "Thank you."

She hoisted herself to her feet and thanked him again, but she noticed a wisp of her own dark hair fluttering across her face, "Huh? I thought that I was wearing a helmet?"

The red and black jester pointed to the scale helmet lying on the ground near where she collapsed in a laughing fit, "Lovely lady's helm slid off her head when she was laughing for an unknown reason on the road."

"Oh…" She picked up the helmet with a slightly pinked face and placed it back in her head.

There was little pause before she sighed, "So, would you like for me to try to get him to help you?"

The wild jester grinned from ear to ear, "You would do that for sweet Cicero? Oh, yes, and Cicero will have shiny, clinky coin for you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He squeezed the tiny woman into a quick, grateful hug.

When he let her go, she patted his shoulder, "Okay then, I'll be back."

"And Cicero will be right here, waiting patiently!"

Rowina turned her back to the bizarre man and started her way up the hill to the farm. She heard Cicero's humming and singing fade when she approached the weather-beaten door. She rapped the door and waited for an answer, but there was none, 'Huh? Did they not hear me?' Raising her hand up, she knocked on the door slightly harder.

The door swung open to an older looking man wearing an annoyed and slightly angry face, "For the love of Talos, would you leave us alo-!" The man's eyes went wide and his hardened face grew soft when he noticed Rowina, "Oh! Rowina! My, how have you been?"

She smiled, "Well, I will admit, I've been better. How about you? How is your wife and the farm?"

"I myself have been a bit worn down from all the extra farmin' I've had to do. Nasty cold weather makes it harder to grow some good crops. As for my wife, she is still her good self."

They continued their brief chatter before Rowina remembered what she really came for, "Oh, I was wondering if I could have some help? A man's cart broke down and he's stranded. Do you mind lending a hand?"

Loreius' face went dark, "You mean that Cicero guy?"

"Yes, I believe he has come up before, but-"

"No," He shook his head, "I don't like him. He reeks of blood, fresh blood, and that crate he claims to hold his mother is all too suspicious. Hell, he could be smuggling skooma and moon sugar for all I know."

Rowina looked down at her feet. She realized that she didn't even think about studying the situation. An imperial jester crossing the border into Skyrim just to find another crypt for his dead mother did seem a bit suspicious and unusual. No matter how many times she phrased it she couldn't make sense of the situation, but his matters were not her own nor her business. She stood her ground on helping the imperial man and couldn't place him as a dealer or smuggler no less. He was just way too rambunctious.

The woman looked up at the older nord man with pleading eyes, "Can't you find the goodness in your heart to help a stranger in need? He may be a bit different and strange, but he is stranded and needs assistance." She hated to be manipulative, but it was a required weapon that needed to be used in many scenarios.

With a hand combing through his fine, salt and pepper hair, Loreius sighed, "I'm afraid I just can't do it, but I can give you the necessities for the job. I've seen you work with a hammer and nails and I know you have enough skill for the job. I apologize, but I can't be the one to do it."

She knew that that was all that she was going to get from the slightly paranoid farmer, "That would be just fine, Loreius. Thank you."

After a few minutes, Loreius had packed a medium sized, worn, leather pouch with the utilities Rowina needed. The nord sighed, "Here's the stuff you'll need. When you're done you can just leave it on the tree stump below," He handed the pouch to the woman, "But heed my warning, I don't trust that Cicero. Not one bit. Be careful of him."

"Don't worry about me, I'll be just fine." She smiled to reassure Loreius, whose face still bore a look of worry, "I'll just fix it up and send him on his way so he won't be a bother to you anymore."

Before the man could attempt to convince her more, she thanked him again and left the residence and made her way to the broken wagon where she found Cicero pacing around the cart mumbling to himself.

"He he he he…. Crazy? Cicero? Ehe he he he…. That's… madness…"

His sharp laughter did bring a chill down Rowina's spine, but none-the-less called out to him, "I'm back."

Cicero was pulled out from his revere and his solemn face lit up when he saw the fair-skinned woman approach, "Oh! Sweet, fair maiden has returned! Cicero was worried that you abandoned him you were gone so long!" In reality, she was only gone for about fifteen minutes. He stopped his skipping towards Rowina and looked around, "Cicero sees kind lady, but not mean Loreius. Did he refuse nice woman too?"

She shook her head, "Kinda, but he did let me borrow his tools for me to fix instead."

"What?!" He screeched and his hands grabbed his jester hat, "He won't come down, but makes poor, fragile lady do it? Rude, rude, rude, rude!"

Rowina's eye twitched with slight offence, "Listen, Loreius is a very kind man who is just a little paranoid, and I am not fragile. I can take care of this just fine by myself."

The man's reddened face twisted into one of surprise then to apologetic, "Oh, Cicero is sorry. He didn't mean to offend sweet maiden."

Either the jester had a way to play with honeyed words or Rowina was just way too soft-hearted. Whatever it was, it relaxed her tensed body, "You are forgiven. Don't beat yourself up." She walked up to him and patted his shoulder in reassurance which seemed to cheer him up. Ready to get started, she turned, slid of her helmet and placed it on the tree stump, grabbing the wood axe near it, "Alright, let's get started."

Cicero stared at her with confusion as she started walking another direction towards a small fallen tree, "Eh, what is fra-… not-so-fragile lady doing with that?"

"Don't you worry about it," She continued, "I'll get your cart fixed up as soon as possible so you and your mother can get home safely."

Before he could speak again, Rowina threw down the axe on the tree and smoothly cut it in half and tossed the axe aside. In the corner of her eye she saw the man stiffen, but it was curiosity, not fear, that dominated his amber eyes. Ignoring him, she hoisted the lower half on her shoulder and walked toward the wagon.

She went between the cart horse and the wagon and lifted up the cart with ease, placed the log close to the spot of the broken wheel, and let the wagon rest on it. Before she went too deep in repair, she slipped of her ring and placed it on the cart, "It would be hard to keep this up and fix a broken wheel at the same time, wouldn't it?"

The jester went quiet and sat down silently in the dirt. He was closely observing her actions. Rowina merely figured he was studying what she was doing so if he had trouble again he could fix it himself, but that was not what he was doing. He was studying her for another, dark reason.

After an hour of labor, the exhausted woman finally stood up and wiped the sweat collected on her dark-colored brow, "Well, that should do it for you. This should keep sturdy for the travels to come."

The jester bounded up from his sitting position and began a joyful jig, "Oh, wonderful, wonderful, wonderful! Cicero thanks you! Humble Cicero will never forget you kind stranger! Never!" He skipped his way towards Rowina and grabbed her hand and shook it, "What is sweet maidens name so Cicero may remember you and your kindness?"

"Row-" She bit down on her tongue, she should keep it safe and go under another name. Just for safety she thought. Though, she doubted she'd ever see the man again, "Red. Call me Red."

Cicero clapped his hands, "Red, Red! Sweet Red! Red like the color of snowberries, laughter," He paused, his face going dark with sudden craze, and with a deep voice continued, "And the blood of fallen enemies." Before she could comprehend his last phrase, he brightened and grinned, "A perfect name for you, dear!"

She swallowed, 'Maybe should have thought that out more…' she thought with quick regret of her choice.

"And here is your well-deserved payment from sweet Cicero." He handed the somewhat nervous imperial a rather large coin pouch. Possibly containing around three hundred septims!

Rowina gently pushed his hand holding the patched bag back to him, "My treat, it's my job to lend a helping hand and expect nothing in return." She smiled kindly, "Besides, you have already paid me back in full for your happiness of the finished product."

Much to her surprise, his eyes sprung with tears, "Oh! Cicero is so thankful! Thankful!" He pulled her into another strong embrace. His pure joy nearly brought tears to her sapphire eyes. She hugged him back and they clung for a few seconds before they released.

To distract herself from her oncoming tears, she stated, "Well, you should probably be going. You don't want to keep your mother waiting any longer."

"Oh! Oh yes! Cicero must get mother to her new home!" He began to run up to his wagon, but stopped short and looked over his shoulder, "Will Red be okay? Does kind Red need a ride home?"

She shook her head, "Thank you for your concern, but I'll be fine. Besides, you're going the opposite direction then I."

The half-mad jester paused then nodded, "Cicero understands."

Then he climbed into the head seat of the cart and grabbed the horses' reins.

"Oh, Cicero!" He looked down at the approaching woman, "If you ever need anything or are passing through Whiterun and need a place to stay. Ask for Breezehome. It's the small house close to the blacksmith when you first enter the city." She didn't say to ask for Rowina so he wouldn't get suspicious or she caught in a lie.

Cicero smiled wide, "Of course! Dear Cicero will be sure to visit when he can!"

That wasn't what she meant.

"S-ure. Uh, anytime!" She faked a smile with hope that he would forget about her and her location.

He waved, clicked the reins against the horse and she watched him disappear over the horizon before she grabbed and put her helmet on.

" _Thank you, my child…"_

"What the fu- What was that?" She looked around searching for the owner of the older woman's voice, but found no one, "Hmph. Probably my imagination…"

Looking up at the sky, she estimated that it was about midday and she groaned, she spent her morning helping Cicero which meant she was going to get home at dark. Lydia, her housecarl, was probably worried sick. Rowina knew she was going to get a verbal beating tonight.

Shaking her head, she walked back to her camp to gather her things and was surprised to find it intact despite all the bandits and wild animals around. She shrugged it off as pure luck and started her packing.

* * *

Rowina threw herself down on her bed and sighed with bliss. She had finally made it to her home. She curled up under her warm fur blankets and nuzzled her head into her pair of fluffy pillows. She was right about the lecture she was going to get, but she didn't expect Lydia to break down in tears, hug her, lecture her some more, apologize, cry and hug again, and said her goodnights and went to bed. Must be her time of the month.

Out of instinct and habit, she looked at her hand to gain the comfort of her ring on her finger, but something wasn't right. The woman sat straight up in her bed. The feeling of devastation crawled all over her.

Her ring was gone.


	2. Queen of Memories

**CHAPTER TWO:**

 **QUEEN OF MEMORIES**

Rowina found herself wandering the halls of Jorrvaskr, home of the Companions, in a daze. It had been almost a month since she had defeated Alduin and people were still singing her praises, bringing her gifts of gold, jewelry, scrolls of powerful enchantments, and other gifts that she would rather forget, and about eight men this month fell to one knee for her hand in marriage which she politely declined all of them. The forlorn woman shook her head; she was getting tired of being the famous Dragonborn, being handed gift after gift, men falling all over her -though, she will admit that she likes the attention of men a little bit-, and just being treated differently.

She continued her zoned-out stroll, barely noticing the people that passed her by, the weapons, animal heads and elaborate tapestries that lined the walls around her, and hardly heard the chatter and laughter that echoed the throughout the structure. It felt as if time went slower for her while time for everything else grew faster.

The dark-haired imperial wasn't upset that her destiny as Dragonborn was completed. She was glad that she had finished her deed, but her problems lied somewhere else.

Her eyes started to grow heavy; she spotted a small bench that felt like it was beckoning her to sit and to take a rest. It easily won her over, she let out a yawn and plopped herself down onto the bench. Feeling even sleepier, her elbow naturally found the arm of the wooden bench and she rested her head in her hand. At this point, all she could think about was sleep, how nice it would be to be to spend a few hours in bliss, and to dream about many things like-

'Dream?!'

"No!" Rowina shouted when she flew off the bench, she began to box at her head, "No, no, no! I can't fall asleep! I have to stay awake!" She smacked her cheeks in an attempt to gain energy.

It was when he spoke when the woman realized a person was in her presence, "Um, am I interrupting something?"

She stopped her actions and whipped her head around to see who somewhat caught her, "Oh, Farkus. It's you."

Farkus was someone she had bonded the closest to in the Companions. He went with her as her Shield-Brother on her trial into the Companions and was one of the few who treated her as a person rather then an idol. They became close friends and usually traveled together when she left Lydia back at Breezehome.

Spinning on her heel, she faced Farkus and noticed his grave expression, "What's the matter?"

The man shook his head, "Well, everyone has been worried about you. You haven't been eating, sleeping, or have really left Jorrvasker or your own home at all this month." Placing his large hand on her thin shoulder, he continued, "We are deeply concerned and I'm pretty sure your housecarl is too. Is there something wrong?"

Rowina flashed her biggest smile and politely shook off his hand, "Oh no, I'm just fine. I just… uh…" she glanced around as if looking for and excuse, "I've just been busy… uh… practicing survival techniques. You know… go days without sleep and… no food. Good stuff, good stuff."

"You know," Farkus began walking towards her causing her to back away until she bumped into the wall; he closed the distance and placed his hand on the stone wall near her head, "I've known you long enough to know when you're lying." The much taller nord pressed his body against hers and his face inches away making her face flush, "You are a pretty bad liar," His chestnut eyes looked deep into hers, "So Rowina, will you tell me the truth?"

Her chest clinched, cheeks burned, eyes began to fill with hot tears. She wanted to tell him, her mind kept trying to persuade her, but she bit down on her tongue.

"No," She pushed him off of her, "I said I was fine."

She walked to the door, but before she left the room she spoke to him over her shoulder, "And to prove it, I'll go on a job. Alone."

Letting her blunt words fly from her mouth, she turned and left the room not hearing the man behind her give a pained sigh.

* * *

It was nighttime. The harsh cold nipped at Rowina's bare face making her face red and the chilly wind made her thick hair flutter behind her. She wrapped her arms tight around her, "How can anyone live with this gods-forsaken cold?" she mumbled.

She looked up the sky, the evening sky seemed to swirl with dark purples and blues like silk with small, twinkling stars adorning it like gemstones. Despite the icy weather, she had always adored the sky.

The colors felt hypnotizing to her tired eyes as she stared at the sky; she was regretting her decision of immediately leaving Whiterun when she was confronted by Farkus, mentally cursing herself for her stubbornness.

When her eyes finally detached from the skies, she looked forward only to see an arrow speeding towards her chest. She attempted to dodge the arrow, but the arrow grazed her arm. Her chilled hand gripped the bleeding cut on her shoulder and she booked it to a nearby stone and crouched behind it.

"Well, I guess I found the bandit cave…"

Equipping her ebony bow and untying her thin, hooded cape she exposed her leather armor. She ignored the slight sting in her arm when she grabbed, placed, and drew back the string holding a steel arrow. The whizzing arrows came to a stop and the woman heard whispering.

She peeked around the edge of slick rock and saw two male bandits; a Redguard and a Dunmer.

"Where did she go? Did we kill her?" the Redguard asked.

The other bandit squinted his red eyes, "Not sure, I'll go check."

The Dark Elf began to creep where they last saw Rowina, which was straight ahead of them while she hid behind the bolder to their right. She turned her bow sideways above the bolder and aimed right at the dark-skinned bandit's throat so he couldn't scream when she killed him. She shivered at how dark her thought was. Holding her breath, she released the arrow and her shot was true.

Blood splattered the wooden entrance, the bandit grabbed throat and a look of surprise stained his face. He tried to shout, but the only sound he made was a muffled gurgle before he collapsed and fell on his side, dead.

She adjusted her stance and drew her bow again this time aiming at the elf, but there was a problem, she didn't see him.

Her eyes searched and searched, but no anvil. She sighed and put her arrow back in her quiver and placed the bow back onto her back. Still crouching, she crept out from behind her hiding place and made her way to the fallen Redguard, searching his rapidly cooling body. She grabbed the iron arrows from his quiver and took his few pieces of gold.

But before she could react, she was grabbed from behind and a large, cold hand covered her mouth that stifled her screams. The heat of her captor's breath lingered in her ear, "Found you bitch."

Struggling hard to free herself from his grasp, his hand over her mouth got tighter and with his free hand he unsheathed his dagger, threw his arm around her torso, and sunk the dagger deep into her left side.

She screamed inside his hand as he pressed it harder and deeper into her side and in that instant, she bit down hard into the bandit's hand. He wailed from pain and shock as he quickly released his hold on her and drew out his dagger from her skin. She hook kicked his side, grabbed him by his hair and slammed his face into her knee. The Dunmer stopped moving and breathing altogether and toppled over.

Her breathing grew ragged; she clutched her wounded abdomen and let herself sink down to her knees. Remembering her satchel hanging on her hip, she dug into it, searching for an item that could save her life. If she found it before she bled out.

Suddenly, her hand grabbed the familiar, glass bottle. She thanked the gods under her breath as her horribly shaking hand pulled it out of her bag. The red liquid bounced inside the bottle when her thumb popped off the cork and she downed the bittersweet potion. She breathed a sigh of relief; the pain began to quickly melt away while her wounds felt like they were stitching themselves up and closed.

After she felt rejuvenated from her health potion, she felt her anger flair, she felt the wolf and dragon inside her growing restless, hungering for more bloodshed. Ever since she was a young girl she had hated one thing, she absolutely hated it when someone makes her own blood ooze from her body. She felt herself losing control of her emotions fast and she knew for a fact: anybody or anything with a heartbeat inside that cave was going to be torn to shreds by her own hand – or claw.

She grinned, allowing herself to let her holed-up beast loose. Her armor fell into the snow, she felt her face and body begin to stretch and tufts of blacked fur sprouted from her skin, her teeth elongated and sharpened, her dainty fingernails grew into dagger-like claws and a wolf tail grew from her backside.

A howl rang through the air and her body looked nothing like the woman there before. Rowina fell onto all fours and burst through the entrance. She bit and slashed at anything that moved and it wasn't long before her bloodied claws ripped out the heart of the last bandit. The cave was littered with deranged bodies, blood nearly covered every inch of the stone walls and dirt floors, and the stench of death filled the surrounding air. Satisfaction welled up in the werewolf's chest, she completed her mission and she had fun doing it.

'What?' she mentally talked to herself, given that she can't speak in beast form, 'No! I did not have fun! I simply did my job and the killing was not fun, just a necessary evil.'

The wolf shook her head and started to leave, but before she knew it the room began to spin and her vision grew blurry, 'No, no, no! I can't pass out!' her large paws clutched her head, 'I know I haven't been sleeping well this month and just completely passed on sleep for a week, but I can't pass out! I can't! Not without my ring!'

But her exhausted body ignored her pleas and she collapsed. Her beast form retreating back into her body and the warmth of her fur dissipated. She lied nude on the cold ground. Rowina kept trying to fight the sleep that so eagerly wanted to drag her into the darkness, but she couldn't win.

Before her heavy eyelids could close, she spotted a man's silhouette approach. She figured that a bandit hid from her rampage and was going to kill her, but her body refused to move so she accepted death to be her fate. At this point, she'd rather die then to fall asleep. Her eyes finally closed and the last thing she remembered before sleep overtook her was a familiar, friendly scent.

* * *

 _Rowina stirred when a rough bounce jolted her body upright. She shook her head and opened her eyes, only to find herself seated in an imperial wagon mixed with four other rope-bound Nords. Two appeared to be Stormcloak soldiers, one was dressed in rags, and the other one was wearing fine clothing as well as a gag._

 _'Wait,' she thought, 'Prisoners? Why does this scene look so famil-?'_

 _"Hey, you." a blond Stormcloak nodded to her, "You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there." He gestured towards the man in rags._

 _The 'thief' spit at the Stormcloaks feet, "Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could of stolen that horse and been half way to Hammerfell." He looked over to her, "You there. You and me – we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."_

 _Then it hit her. The imperial cart full of prisoners, Ulfric Stormcloak bound and gagged, and the snow-covered mountains surrounding the cart, she remembered this scene and she knew it well. She was on her way to Helgen to be executed._

 _She tried to speak, but her mouth and her voice didn't budge. She tried to move, but she remained still._

 _'Why can't I move? Why can't I control my body?'_

 _Before she could attempt to do anything, another rough dip shook the cart violently and she found herself standing up in the back of a line._

 _"Step to the block when we call your name. One at a time!"_

 _The loud, commanding voice belonged to a petite, but intimidating, woman wearing high-status imperial armor. She was the captain of the imperial guard!_

 _A quiet huff of annoyance came from one of the Stormcloaks ahead of her, "Empire loves their damn lists."_

 _Rowina tried to move just to slap the dissing Stormcloak in the back of the head, but, of course, her body ignored her and remained still._

 _She let her eyes wander the memory before her and to her surprise, her view rested on a familiar man, 'Hadver!'_

 _Mentally, she smiled at him. She hadn't seen him really since he took her to Riverwood and helped her get back on her feet. Her heart clinched, she needed to check up on him when she could._

 _Another voice snapped her back from her thoughts, "Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm." Hadver read._

 _"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric!"_

 _The Stormcloak she wanted to bitch-slap before rose his voice, kindling her fiery emotion again as the well-dressed –and rather fetching- man walked with pride over near the stained block despite being bound and gagged._

 _Hadver looked down at the parchment he held, "Ralof of Riverwood," the Stormcloak walked with a proud swagger as he stopped next to his Jarl, "Lokir of Rorikstead."_

 _He walked forward about two steps before he threw his bound hands in the air and screamed, "No, I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" the thief started to sprint and pushed passed the Captain and Hadver._

 _"Halt!" the Captain shouted to his retreating back._

 _Lokir raised his voice again and taunted, "You're not going to kill me!"_

 _The imperial woman went red in the face; Rowina figured that comment pissed the Captain off, "Archers!"_

 _A quick yelp rang through the air. The escaping thief fell to the ground bearing at least three arrows in his freshly bloodied back. The Captain turned back around, "Anybody else feel like running?" she threatened._

 _Her breath caught in her throat. Even though she was reliving a past memory the soul-piercing eyes of the woman in front of her still sent chills down her spine._

 _"Wait. You there. Step forward." Her body moved on its own in obedience to Hadver's voice, "Who are you?"_

 _Before she could try to stop, her lips moved without her minds consent, "I am Rowina of Tamriel."_

 _His eyes scanned her body, glanced at his list, and locked with her eyes again, "You're a long way from the Imperial City. What are you doing in Skyrim?" but before she could answer, he leaned over to the woman beside him, "Captain, what should we do? She's not on the list."_

 _She glared at Rowina and let the poison drip from her mouth, "Forget the list, she goes to the block."_

 _He had a look of shock and hesitated slightly, be he swiftly regained his composure, "By your orders, Captain." Hadver bore a pained looked when his eyes rested on the dark-haired imperial in front of him, "I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are returned to Cyrodiil. Follow the Captain, prisoner."_

 _Her body followed the woman, but an exposed tree root tripped her and made her fall onto her hands and knees._

 _She raised her head, but realized that she was propped against the execution block. Her vision only saw the black-hooded man lifting a large axe that was being readied to drop on her neck and send her soul home._

 _"What in Oblivion is that?!"_

 _The ground rumbled below her, the executioner tumbled to his side and she gained a clear view of the disturbance._

 _Alduin._

 _Alduin crouched on top of a tower with a look confidence. The darkened clouds swirled and covered up the winter sun. The heavy greens, blues, and blacks of the dragon's scales seemed to glow with raw power which made him look like hatred itself. He un-closed his mouth full of razor-sharp teeth that were already stained with blood even though his blackened eyes appeared to hold a deep hunger for more pray to kill, and his overpowering roar echoed throughout the town and many towns near it. The roar flung the light-weight woman far from the block and she slammed against the wagon that she was brought upon making a sickening crack and tipping the cart over. She gasped for breath and her vision went blurry, but just when she was about to black out she started to hear children laughing. Confused, she opened her eyes and found she was in a totally different memory. A memory of her childhood._

 _Three young boys stood menacingly above her. She was on her side clutching her repeatedly kicked ribs and she felt warm blood drip from her head and her lip. A large tree was against her aching back and the night air was cold on her tinder skin. The boys laughed again, "Quit being a little bitch," the dark-skinned boy crowed at her, "You shouldn't have sat on our club rock! You're getting what you deserve."_

 _They laughed again when they saw tears pouring from her eyes. The high-elf boy took his turn to kick her in the stomach and verbally abuse her, "Come on you sissy! We haven't even started your punishment. Don't give in yet its more fun when you fight back!"_

 _Rowina remembered this day well. After her parents died from a random bandit attack she was on her own and venerable. She mainly lived in high trees, under some peoples porches, broke into some civilians homes when she knew they would be gone awhile, and if she was desperate she would even sleep in barrels in hope for comfort. She ran away from all the orphanages and foster homes because she was always abused and beaten no matter where she went and soon they gave up on her and labeled her a homeless rat._

 _Another kick to her nose took her head from the clouds and she howled in pain with her high-pitched, young screams. The trio continued to laugh in pleasure as they kicked, punched, and beat her with broken tree branches and rocks. Finally, the feline boy unsheathed his small claws and deeply slashed her in the shoulder, "Better remember this so you won't piss us off again, you understand?" but she was numb with pain and all her voice could produce was a small whine. The Khajiit child grabbed her by the collar of her ragged, cloth dress and shouted in her face, "I said 'do you understand' bitch?!"_

 _"Yes! Yes! I understand!" her girlish voice squeaked when she cried out._

 _He threw her on the ground, "Good."_

 _The bullies walked away and their sick laugher faded, but when it did all Rowina could her was her own sobbing. She was covered head to toe with bruises and cuts and she felt her eyes beginning to swell causing her sight to hinder. She continued to weep until a warm, gentle hand rested on her clawed shoulder, "I am so sorry, my child."_

 _Her eyes snapped open even though it hurt like crazy. She has heard this voice, but it was not from this memory. She tried to sit up, but the pain seemed to paralyze her so she let out a mental whisper, "Who are you? You are not from this memory."_

 _"My identity will soon become known to you child, but not yet." Her voice sounded elegant and motherly, "I can understand why you try so hard to let go of your past, but it haunts you instead and a kind friend of yours helped sooth your ongoing pain with that ring of yours. But you misplaced it."_

 _She mentally scoffed, "How could you know that? You were never there! I don't know who you are, but stop nosing around in my mind!"_

 _All she did was sigh, "I see I've overstayed my welcome. I am sorry."_

 _The hand retreated and where it rested quickly turned cold. Her tears continue to run as she cried out alone in the night only hearing someone softly calling out to her._

 _"… Rowi…"_

 _"Rowina…"_

 _"… Ro… na…"_

* * *

"Rowina."

She jolted awake and sat up. Her body was damp, her hair clung to her tear-stained face, and she was shaking badly. Looking around, she noticed she was back in Jorrvasker as well as her own bed and Farkas sitting in a chair next to her bed with her hand in his. His worry-creased face went wide with a mix of fear and surprise then melted into one of relief.

"It's about time you woke up," he half-joked, "Are you okay? How do you feel?"

Leaving his questions unanswered, she asked, "How long was I asleep?"

She could she the quick twinge of annoyance on his tired face, but it went back to relief, "About four and a half days."

'Four and a half days?!' she thought, "It felt like centuries, but it felt like only a second as well."

As if sensing her worry, he cut in her thoughts, "Don't worry, nothing bad happened while you were asleep." But his face went hard, "I am upset that you stormed off after I tried to help you and almost got yourself killed! It was a good thing I followed your stubborn ass!"

Shock etched her face, "You followed me?"

His tightly-wound expression went to one of realization that he slipped that up and she knew she should have felt angry, but a different feeling tightened her chest instead. Rowina instantly threw her arms around his neck and started to quietly weep and a whisper escaped her lips, "Thank you, Farkus…"

Farkus' burly arms gently squeezed her in return and they held each other. The fair-skinned woman was the first to let go and she looked at him with her face close to his. Brown eyes stared into her blue ones as they shared a twinkle. His rough hand slid up her back to cradle her cheek as their gaze never faltered. Slowly, their faces grew close, Rowina closed her eyes and they fell into a soft kiss.


	3. Queen of Heartbreak

**CHAPTER THREE:**

 **QUEEN OF HEARTBREAK**

About two months had passed since her incident. She had tried to sleep as much as she could, but nightmares of her past still weighed on her mind. Many times she had attempted to sleep alone, but she always ended up walking from her house to Jorrvasker to rapture Farkas and take him back to her home so she would have his comfort next to her. It seemed to help.

In the past few weeks, to her relief, people have slowly started to treat her normally save the few hyper-religious priests that would fall to their knees when she filled their view and praised the gods for her coming and existence. She hoped that would fade too.

Her mind always seemed to go back to Hadver. After her dream, the thought of him always lingered her mind. She had felt guilty for not visiting him or his family in some time so she sent a letter ahead to Riverwood to tell of her upcoming visit. This time bringing long-deserved gifts of thanks and such just to help ease her guilt.

"… Alright, got my changes of clothes, a spare set of armor, extra health and stamina potions, my bedroll, tent, a blanket, and my-"

A sharp knocking interrupted Rowina and she heard Lydia call up the stairs, "My Thane, do you mind getting the door? I'm just now getting out of the bath and I don't believe you'd like me to answer the door in nothing but my towel, would you?"

She laughed, "Okay, okay, I'll get it Lyd." She placed her list on her bed and made her way out of her room, down the stairs –somewhat tripping over the hem of her blue cloth dress-, and got to the wooden front door. Her hand turned the knob and pulled the door open. Standing outside, a thin looking teenage boy held a small box with a rolled up parchment tied to the top.

"Ex- Excuse me, miss. Are you the owner of this residence?"

Noting he was a shy boy, she smiled gently, "I am," Her soft voice seemed to relieve him, "How my I help you?"

His tense body relaxed and he rolled his shoulders to appear a bit more confident and erect, "I've been looking for you. I have a package for you."

"From whom?" She asked, tilting her head.

The young boy shook his head, "I'm not sure," He glanced up at her and shrugged, "He said he was a friend of yours."

'He?'

Rowina gingerly accepted the package and handed the boy a small coin pouch, "Thank you for your hard work and diligence to bring this to me." She said with a genuine grin causing the dusky teenager to smile back.

He opened the pouch and his face went wide with awe and he looked at her with concern, "Miss, this pouch holds about a hundred septims! There must be a mistake, ma'am! I never get-"

"No, I meant it." She softly placed her slender hand on his shoulder and crouched slightly to meet his eye level, "Use it to take care of yourself and your family." Her face beamed with kindness.

Before she knew it, boney arms wrapped around her neck and his chin rested her shoulder blade making her stiffen with surprise at the sudden action, "Thank you, Miss! Thank you!" her body relaxed and she held him close.

The boy released his grasp from her neck and his ebony eyes twinkled with joy, "I can use this to get some food and medicine!"

"Oh wonderful!"

She waved the Redguard boy 'goodbye' as he happily dashed away then closed the door behind her.

By then, Lydia had gotten dressed in her steel armor with her dark hazelnut hair twisted into a quick bun and finished making breakfast, "My Thane, come and eat. I always feel better when you have a meal before you embark on journeys."

The scent of ham and eggs filled the household's air, mercilessly invading the imperial's senses. Even if she wasn't hungry before, she was now.

Rowina sat down at her dining table and fleetly wolfed down the food placed before her. She wasn't sure if she could ever live without her housecarls cooking, but she knew she had to.

"Thank you, Lyd," swiping a finger across her glass plate and licked it not wanting anything to go to waste, "It was delicious!" She stood up from the bench reluctantly, "I had better finish packing, unfortunately."

Before she could walk two steps, her housecarl called out, "Wait, my Thane. Don't you want a sweetroll for dessert?"

The evading woman stopped in her tracks, "Damn it, Lyd," Rowina cursed aloud and turned back to face the woman, "You know I have a weak-spot for sweetrolls…"

The two women laughed, Lydia placed the plate into the wanting hands and watched with delight as the imperial ravaged the treat joyfully, "I'm sure my sweetroll obsession is an Imperial thing," mumbled the slightly shorter woman with a mouthful of sugar, "And your divine cooking skills are a Nord thing."

"That's a little racist, don't you think?"

"Not if it's the truth."

They shared another laugh; Rowina licked her icing-covered fingers and spoke again, "Now I really should finish my packing. I'll need to head out in a bit if I want to make it to Riverwood before nightfall."

Lydia nodded, "I understand, my Thane."

"Oh! I almost forgot," the imperial exclaimed when her eyes landed onto the package that sat on her dining table, "I'd better take this too."

"What is it, my Thane?"

"Not sure, but I'll open it before I leave"

She made her way back into her room and wasted no time in untying the rolled parchment and let her eyes scan the note that read:

 _Red,_

 _Your dearest friend found something on his cart and realized that it belonged to you, sweet Red. So he just had to send it back because you helped him, but refused any payment. He hopes that he is no longer in debt to you so he won't ever feel guilty for not repaying his dear friend._

 _He sends his gratitude,_

 _Cicero._

She gasped, 'Does this mean-?' Her mind completely passed over the name signed at the bottom and her hands swiftly ripped open the package and looked inside the box. There in the very box was a carefully placed ring that lightly shone the familiar blue hue.

* * *

Rowina hugged her housecarl and promised to be home within two or three weeks. She waved and went to open the door, but someone stood outside her door with a hand up, ready to knock.

"Farkas!"

Shutting the door behind her, she threw her arms around him, teetering the man slightly, but he none-the-less returned the gesture, "Hey, Rowina! How are you, my love?"

"I'm fine," she loosened her grasp on him and rested her hands on his broad shoulders to see him better, "Just now leaving to see a friend in Riverwood. How about yourself?"

The glow emanating from Farkas' face dampened, "Now?" she noticed his expression and slowly nodded causing him to sigh, "Well, you may have to postpone that visit," the shine in her azure eyes dulled, "We got an emergency job. Up in Windhelm, bandits are causing trouble and the city's Jarl hired us to take care of the problem because his own soldiers are pretty thinned out there."

'I guess it was a good thing I didn't write an exact date of my arrival on my letter. So much for a leisure trip…'

A sigh escaped her pinked lips, "Understood," She glanced up at him with a sudden mischief adorning her features, "But I'll only go if you're my Shield-Brother."

He snickered, "Who else could deal with a woman like you?"

"Excuse me?" She asked dramatically with a playful look.

His hand slid to her lower back and pulled her to his chest, "A wonderful, stubborn, beautiful woman like you."

The couple shared a laugh before Rowina fixed her small arms around his neck and quickly placed a light kiss on his lips.

But she retreated from his embrace with a puzzled gaze, "Wait. The Jarl of Windhelm?"

Farkas copied her face, "Yes, what about him, love?"

"Well, shit…" Her hand rubbed her eye then weaved her fingers through her hair, "He's Ulfric Stormcloak, isn't he?"

"Oh," he donned with realization, "I didn't even think of that."

They both sat in silence for a time before Farkus piped up, "Well, we could still do the job without gaining Ulfric's presence, but still get paid."

"That's true. We could just stay at 'The Candlehearth Hall' there rather then the Jarl's home."

"Sounds like a plan."

They nodded in unison and Rowina turned to the door still looking over her shoulder, "I'll tell Lydia the change of plans."

But before she could open the door his hand firmly, but kindly, gripped her arm making her look back at him, "What is it?" She asked with a conflicted look.

"You need to know this," Farkas replied with a seriousness, "You look lovely in that dress." A teasing smirk etched his face.

"Farkas!" She exclaimed while lightly punching his arm, "You scared me with that stern look!" Her hands covered her blushing face and giggled, "But thank you."

She entered into her house and Lydia was found sitting next to the fire deeply indulged in a book without noticing Rowina, "Lydia,"

"Ah!" the housecarls voice squeaked with surprise and she looked up to the woman beside her, "My Thane! You startled me!"

A soft laugh escaped her mouth, "Sorry, Lyd," She apologized, "I just wanted to tell you that my visit to Riverwood has been canceled for the time being and instead we're going to Windhelm."

The Nord's face went perplexed, "We?"

"Me and Farkas."

"Oh?" Her confusion was replaced by a joking glare, "And just what is it exactly that you two will be doing up there?"

The imperial's fair complexion pinked, "Nothing of the sort! Just a job then we'll come back! No funny business!"

Lydia howled with laughter before she added, "What kind of job?"

"Lydia!"

The steel-clad woman nearly fell out of the wooden chair as she doubled-over with an immense fit of giggles when she saw the small woman next to her already pink face go beet red.

Finally, she wiped the tears from her face, stood up, and looked down at Rowina who was a good two or three inches shorter, "Sorry, my Thane. I couldn't help myself."

She merely shook her head, "Its fine. I need some good laughter in my life anyway."

With one last hug, Rowina pivoted on her heel and left her home.

* * *

The wooden cart bounced along the rocky path. The bitter cold night nipped at Rowina's bare face. She huddled close to her lover letting his arm hold her tight. The cold didn't appear to bother the Nord, but it damn sure bothered her and the blanket around her small shoulders felt like it did nothing against the biting wind. Her head rested on his broad shoulders and her eyes inspected his face. He bore a neatly chiseled structure; small to larger scars littered his tan skin, narrow chestnut eyes had a look of seriousness, but had a gleam of child-like curiosity. She smiled, that was one of the things she loved about him.

Her sapphire eyes wondered his appearance, but got caught when he looked down at her and his thin lips grinned, "What is it?"

"Nothing," she said with a shake of her head, looking ahead of her, "Just thinking about how lucky I am to have someone like you to love."

He chuckled, "I'm lucky to have you too."

His warm lips kissed her icy forehead making her forget the chill of the evening. She looked up at the night sky, its peaceful aura and mesmerizing colors made her chest flutter. Being embraced by the two things she loved most almost felt like a dream to her.

"Oh, did you find your ring?"

She glanced at her hand resting on his chest and nodded, "Yeah, someone found it and figured it was mine. They were right thankfully."

A grin engraved his face, "That's good!" but his appearance fell into confusion, "Who sent it."

"Uh…" she searched her mind for the name of the sender, but no anvil, "I don't believe I remember. I can check the note when we return home." She replied shaking her head apologetically.

Her mind fell short of reality and she resumed her trance.

"Whoa! Whoa girl!"

The milky white horse whinnied when the cart driver tugged on the reigns, disrupting her daze. The middle-aged Breton man looked over his shoulder, "Alright ya lovebirds," he announced, "Here we are in the city o' Windhelm."

The couple thanked the man and stepped out of the cart. Rowina paid him his fifty septims and the two walked up to the city entrance, but they were stopped by the pair of guards that stood there, "Halt. In order to enter the city of Windhelm, you must pay an entrance fee of a hundred septims."

"A hundred septims?" The woman exclaimed, "Listen here you little sons of bitchs, we've just traveled two days non-stop to get here and do a gods damned job for the shitty wuss you call a Jarl and I have not felt a cleansing bath at all in those two days of travel and I won't hesitate slit both of your sorry throats! And this 'entrance fee' you have is all a dumb-ass scam so you can get some extra change in your pockets only to be spent on barrels of mead to get drunk off your asses!"

A thick tension filled the air between the two pairs. Farkas looked down at Rowina with shock and the guards stood stiffly as they looked at the fuming woman in front of them. They simultaneously gestured to the large door allowing them in.

She smiled, "Thank you gentlemen! Have a good night!"

With a sudden pep to her walk they passed through to front gates ignoring the voices whispering behind them. The town before them looked large, but poorly kept. Snow layered the moist dirt under their feet; beggars looked up at them with a gleam of hope for a septim or two. Stone walls looked ready to crumble at the slightest of bumps and people argued in the streets. Mainly the fights were just drunken Nords shamming anyone who wasn't their own race.

Farkas' face was stained with the look of shock as he looked down to the woman holding his hand, "Rowina? What the hell was that?"

"What do you mean?"

"You just yelled at the guards at the gate! What caused you to do that?!"

She laughed, "Hey, I wasn't about to pay a hundred septims just to get inside the city, so I acted like a bitch to get in. Truth be told, it really was a scam because they noticed I was an Imperial. Not a Nord."

"But I'm a Nord." He added with a raise of his eyebrow.

"It doesn't matter," She sighed, "Even though you're a Nord, they still saw me and they labeled you anyways."

He snorted, "Well that's not fair. Why are they so racist here?"

"Ulfric is the Jarl here."

"Oh."

They held hands in silence on their way towards 'The Candlehearth Hall'. The cold air sent a chill down Rowina's back. The Nord noticed this and wrapped his muscular arm around her waist and pulled her close.

But she heard something faint in the background to her left, "Swee… ther…, et… oth…, end… nto…"

"Do you hear that?" she questioned Farkas.

"Hear what, love?" he asked.

She strained her ears to hear the noise again, but all she heard was the falling snow, "Must've been my imagination…"

The two reached the inn and paid a week worth for a room. The innkeeper showed them to their room and bid them 'goodnight' with a wink and a smirk. The imperial went red in the cheeks when she knew what the innkeeper was thinking.

To her relief, both Rowina and Farkas were plum exhausted and left no energy for the 'funny business' Lydia and the innkeeper were inferring to.

Without caring to blow out the few candles surrounding the room, they collapsed onto the fur bed and immediately fell asleep.

* * *

Four days of planning slowly passed for Rowina as she and Farkus were preparing themselves to clear out the band of outlaws and bandits that made home near Windhelm. Planning was never her favorite, but she knew it was necessary in some situations –especially dangerous ones. Still, she was itching for a good fight and some action and she was sure Farkas was feeling the same. The two were hunched over a small table bearing a quill, inkwell, charcoal, rolled parchments full of notes, and a small map of Windhelm and beyond. Their heads were throbbing from days of thinking and making strategies. The skin on their fingers were red from writing and blots of ink and charcoal dirtied their hands and fingernails.

A masculine sigh broke her train of thought and a wisp of warm breath tickled her cheek, she looked up to see the bored man before her relax in his chair and lean back, "Something the matter?"

"Kind of," he said with another sigh, "Just getting tired of making plans and using my head non-stop."

She let out a small laugh, "I feel the same," she rested her back on the wooden chair and paused before she contemplated an idea, "Hey, why don't we just take a well deserved break and order some mead, eh?"

His face brightened, "Good idea, love."

Rowina scanned the room around her in search of a barmaid until her eyes rested on a blonde woman with the signature apron, "Excuse me, Miss!"

The sun-kissed Altmer woman turned, looking for the voice who called. The Imperial waved her hand to grant her attention. The barmaid noticed, smiled, and flounced over to their table. When she arrived is when Rowina noticed how busty the woman was, the low-cut dress she wore left little to the imagination, "How might I help you two today?"

"Two- err…make that four meads please."

With a quick nod, the elf evaded the table gracefully. The ebon-haired woman looked back at the man across her only to find him idly watching the barmaid walk away with curious eyes.

"Hey," she called to him, but he didn't respond, "Yoo-hoo!" her still raw fingers snapped in front of his face breaking his reverie, "What caught your attention?" She asked feigning ignorance.

He shook his head, "I was looking at our barmaid,"

'Well,' she thought, 'at least he's honest…'

"Why's that?"

"Not sure," He shrugged, "There's something about her."

Her head began to feel hot as the snake of jealousy rose from her stomach and sunk it's fangs in her heart, but she planted a false smile and 'joked' with him, "Don't tell me you fell in love her at first glance!" she acted.

"Oh no," he jerked and sat up straight, "I have fallen in love."

She felt her heart sink and let it show on her face, "Oh yeah?"

"To the most beautiful woman it all of Skyrim," He inched his torso over the table and his brown eyes pierced her blue ones with affection, "You, my love."

The fang puncturing her heart snapped and her chest felt warm with happiness, "Aw Farkus," she cooed, "You startled me for a sec-"

She was cut off by a quick peck to her lips. Her body went stiff with surprise and he laughed, "I will love no other, but you."

Heat rose to her cheeks and she giggled, "Damn it, Farkas. You know I can't sing honeyed words like that! I have no skill in romance talk."

"Sure you do! You just have to em-"

Before he could finish his sentence, the elf approached the two. This time with a small tray of mead, "Here you go," she placed the four warmed bottles onto the table making her shoulder-length hair bounce and she grinned, "If you two need anything else, my name is Sonja-Belle."

The coupled uttered their thanks and each grabbed a glass bottle. Two small 'pop's' rang out when the corks were flicked off and they simultaneously gulped down a half of their bottles.

* * *

"Whew! What a fight they put up!" Rowina commented as she threw open their rented door and strutted into the room with pride, "They never saw us coming!"

Farkas was close behind her, his laugh filled the atmosphere, "It almost felt too good to be true!" he shut the door behind him with a thud, "I think we did a good job on this mission."

"I agree. I can't wait to get the reward we deserve!"

"May I give you a reward?" his mischievous smirk danced on his features.

She glanced at him, puzzled, "Huh? Reward for wha-?"

He didn't let her finish her question, "Reward for being my only lover." His lips sealed her own and she tensed, but he placed one hand on her waist and another on her neck, holding her close, healing her stiffness. The kisses he showered her mouth with became deeper and slower. Their tongues began to intermingle and he gently pushed her down onto the cushy bed resting his body on top of hers. The hand resting on her waist gingerly unclasped her dragonscale armor and tugged it off making it clatter onto the floor. He pulled off her gauntlets as well as his own and cradled her jaw to kiss her deeper. The kiss remained unbroken; she copied him, making another noise of fallen armor, and her feminine hand pulled at his dampened tunic. He drew back from her hungry lips and quickly threw off the roughspun tunic, kicked of his steel boots and resumed the fiery kiss. She felt her body grow hot and her mind began to fog, her hands traced the indentions of his muscles on his chest noting that his skin was warm as well. Farkus' rough fingers found the ties of her shirt and began to untie them quickly.

"Wait," Rowina broke the kiss and gently pushed his chest, her mind cleared, "I- I don't think I can do this."

Surprise rippled through the face looking down at her, but he quickly smiled, "Don't worry about it. I'll be gentle, love"

She shook her head, "No, that's not it." she pushed him off of her made him stand up while she followed suit. She looked up at him with a twinge of guilt, "I… um…" her eyes fell with embarrassment, "I'm… waiting to do this… until I marry…"

"Oh," he went pink in the cheeks despite the recent affair, "I understand, my love."

Her eyes searched his face to figure out wither that was true or not, "Are you sure you're okay? I just rejected you."

He shook his head, "No, I'm fine, my love, but we should get some sleep." His eyes fled her own and looked out the window, "It's about 3:00 in the morn."

With a nod, they slipped under the bed covers to go to sleep, but Rowina found that she couldn't. She tossed and turned with what happened only an hour ago putting pressure on her head. Just when sleep was about to take hold, a quick rapping at the door pulled her back, 'What the hell?' she whispered mentally, 'Who is knocking on peoples doors in the middle of the night?'

She ignored the first knocking in attempt to go to sleep, but another round of knocking, this time harder, struck their door again.

"Oh for the love of Mara," she groaned, but removed herself from the bed and answered the door, "What is it?"

The innkeeper stood at the door and he yawned, he probably was awakened just recently, "Someone is here to see someone called 'Farkas'."

Puzzled, she asked, "Why is someone looking for him so early in the morning? Can't they come back at a more reasonable time?"

He shook his tired head, "I'm afraid not, madam. They say it's urgent and they just want him in private." He responded with a shrug.

"Who's 'they'?"

"Sorry madam. They won't allow me to say."

With another groan, she walked over to the opposite side of the bed and shook his shoulders, "Farkas. Wake up. There is someone here to see you."

He rolled over to his back and squinted his sleepy eyes, "Who wants to see me so early?"

"Not sure, but its urgent." Said she as she tugged at his limp arm to sit him up, "So you should get up and get it over with so we can go back to sleep."

With a sigh, he crawled out from the bed covers and stood reluctantly. He shuffled to the door with Rowina not far behind him. He met the eyes of the innkeeper, "Where are they now?"

The old innkeeper's frail finger pointed down the stairs, "They should be down below at the table in the far corner, you can't miss it," Farkas nodded and the two started their way down the stairs, but the man placed a hand on the woman's shoulder, "Sorry madam," he apologized, "Unfortunately, they asked for him to be alone."

Farkas looked back at Rowina, "Don't worry, love," he weakly grinned, "I'll take care of whatever the issue is down there then I'll be back in bed next to you in no time, okay?" he said to comfort her confusion and worry.

"… Fine, but don't be too long. You'll worry me."

They shared a smile before she pivoted on her heel and reentered the room. The door clicked close behind her as she shuffled to the bed and wrapped the warm furs around her. She let the darkness around her soothe her in hope of gaining sleep, but she still felt restless. Her mind made up several scenarios of what her lover could be doing and who the caller could be.

'Could he be meeting with a Khajiit and buying skooma and moonsugar?' her wandering thoughts conjured, 'No, he doesn't have a druggy persona… Could he be meeting a seller for stolen items? No, he's too clumsy and dim-witted to steal something or even sell it for a decent price…'

She realized she couldn't take her monstrous thinking or her quickly rising anxiety level anymore. With newfound energy, she sprung from the bed and opened the door from her room. She crouched and silently crept down the creaky stairs. Finally she reached the bottom of the staircase and looked to the right side of the large room of tables, but she saw no familiar faces; she then searched the expanse of area before her, but once again, no anvil. With her hope slowly fading, she inspected the left side of the room and found whom she was in search of.

But she felt her heart shatter in her chest at what she saw.


End file.
